


Avian

by seraphimhelix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Airplanes, Christmas, Destiel - Freeform, Holidays, M/M, airport
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 08:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2686643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphimhelix/pseuds/seraphimhelix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Destiel Airport/Airplane AU* Dean meets the uncomfortably socially awkward Castiel while waiting for his flight to NYC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avian

2 hours and 20 minutes. That’s how long it would take to get from Chicago to New York and Dean had absolutely no idea how he was going to pass the time. He couldn’t stand flying. Went on a plane once and vowed never to do it again. But, it was close to Christmas and he most definitely was not going to spend another year alone, away from Sam and Jess. His brother had moved to the big city of NYC two years ago after landing a job at a reputable law firm. His girlfriend Jess had followed him, of course, and they now lived in an expansive apartment in the heart of the city. Dean worked as a cop in a very different life from his brother’s, though he was never resentful. Sammy’s happiness was his.

He took long strides down the shiny reflective floor, heading for the nearest duty-free shop. A woman tugged her children’s arms near him, trying to get them to follow her to the gate peacefully. At least he wasn’t flying with kids. That would be hell.

He reached the front of the store where a wooden table held bestsellers stacked and shelved on the tier in the center of it. He skimmed words of praise, calling these books “gripping”, “intense”, “romantic” and “fast-paced”. Dean wasn’t the type to read much, although he had nothing against it. He actually enjoyed reading when he had the time to do it. Now, he was clueless, not knowing which genre to even begin picking from. An horror novel? A dystopian? A fantasy?

“You look like you need a recommendation.”

Dean flinched, finding a blue-eyed, dark-haired man beside him, staring at him with intent. He had on somewhere between a smile and a grimace, as though he was trying to contain the goofy grin that was forcing its way across his lips. His hands were in loose fists by his sides, one holding a briefcase, and he stood in an awkward way as though he didn’t quite know how to stand in his shoes.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Dean gave him a polite smile, returning to his hopeless search for a book. The airport wasn’t really the place to make friends with strangers, Dean had always thought. And, being a cop had made him cautious of new people.

He reached out for a small mass-market paperback with silver lettering embossed on the cover. The man grunted.

“No, not that one.”

Dean frowned, his mouth forming a thin line, and placed the book back on the table. He reached for another.

“Annoying main character and a predictable plot.”

Dean glanced back at the man. He was simply standing there, staring at Dean as though he had nowhere else to be.

Dean tried one more time for a hardcover sitting on the middle of the table, but the man immediately scoffed incredulously.

“Ok, fine!” Dean rolled his eyes. “What do _you_ think I should read?”

The man’s blue eyes lit up, his face becoming giddy and childlike. Dean begrudgingly admitted to himself that it was kind of cute.

“Well,” He said in his low gravelly voice. “This one is one of my favorites.” He took a black book with smoke on the front cover and handed it to Dean.

“‘Looking for Alaska?’” Dean flipped the book over, finding that this John Green guy, was in fact a Young Adult fiction author. “No, sorry, I don’t do teen books.” He handed the book back to the man.

A look of bewilderment crossed his face, but he didn’t say anything. He just let his expression ask the question. This guy clearly wasn’t very socially adept.

“It’s because I’m not a teenage girl.” Dean explained, although the man’s confused expression didn’t disappear.

“I know that.” He squinted. “I never said you were.”

“Look,”  Dean, sighed, tired with the encounter. “I’m just going to go. I don’t need a book anyway.”

He took off, leaving the man behind him. He decided that he might come back for a book later, but knew the pursuit would probably be futile.

The green circular sign that beckoned to his caffeine-deprived body was clear a few feet ahead of him. The backpack on his shoulders had been getting heavier since he left security, so giving his shoulders a rest seemed nice.

He turned into the open doorway where tired people lined up for their coffee. It was crowded, that’s for sure. At 8AM, that was to be expected. Dean took his place in the line behind several other people. He pulled out his phone, addressing a text to Sam.

_Twenty minutes till my flight. Can’t wait to see you, Sammy._

He smiled fondly at the text before hitting the send button.

“I thought you said you weren’t a teenaged girl.”

Dean spun around to find the man from a few minutes ago standing behind him, his hands still stiffly by his sides.

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you at Starbucks?”

“I-” Dean hesitated. “I needed some coffee.”

“ _Needed_ coffee?” The man gave him an incredulous look. “I doubt you _need_ coffee. Air perhaps-”

“I _wanted_ coffee, then.” Dean obliged.

“That’s funny. I wanted coffee too.”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “And I wanted a book, but that didn’t seem to work out.”

“What was that about a book?”

“Nothing.”

The man simply stared at him. Dean wondered if he would just keep doing it if he didn’t turn around. He didn’t wait to find out.

The few minutes he had to wait for the line to move up were agonizing. He wondered how in the world this strange man could make him feel so uncomfortable. He was a cop, for God’s sake! He was usually the one who made other people feel uncomfortable with his intimidating appearance.

Dean finally got his coffee, and settled down in a small table for two with one chair missing. That would probably prevent the man from sitting with him. Warm coffee filled his mouth with a bitter wholesome taste and Dean let out a relaxed sigh, slouching in his chair.

A loud, elongated screech sounded from the other side of the café and Dean’s head whipped around instinctively. There he was. The man was dragging a chair all the way across the café just so he could sit with Dean. The people surrounding him clandestinely chuckled at the man’s loud journey to Dean.

“I’m Castiel, by the way.” He said, setting his cup down on the table.

“U-huh.”  
“What’s your name?”

He hesitated. “Dean.”

“Dean.” Castiel smiled. “That’s a nice name.”

“Yeah.” Dean shrugged his leather jacket off, draping it over the back of his seat. The heat was stifling in here.

“You’re right, it is hot.” Castiel murmured, pulling his blue sweater over his head and revealing the thin, white v-neck t-shirt underneath. He took a sip from his cup and winced at the taste. “Tea doesn’t taste that good.”

“Tea? I thought you said you wanted coffee.”

“Exactly. I wanted coffee, so I got tea.” Castiel told him enthusiastically. “I’m expanding my horizons.”

“You ever tried tea before?”

Castiel shook his head.

“It’s an acquired taste, you know.”

Castiel looked at the cup in disdain. “Yes, I can see that now.”

“Here.” Dean slid the two cups in the opposite directions. “Switch with me. I already took a sip, so I hope you don’t mind-”

“No, that’s fine!” Castiel took the cup gratefully and drank a long gulp with his eyes

closed, savoring the flavor.

Dean scolded himself for finding himself smiling at Castiel. He had the same wonder

and excitement as a child. But, he was also just as annoying as a child.

Castiel grabbed Dean’s arm, pulling it towards him.

“What- What are you-” Dean stammered.

“Look at the time!” Castiel said, eyeing Dean’s watch. “I have to get to my gate.” He stood up, throwing his sweater over his shoulder and picking up his coffee and briefcase. “Thanks for the coffee, Dean.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Dean waved passively.

As soon as Castiel was out of sight, Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes. The whole situation was ridiculous. Meeting this weird guy in the middle of the airport that was way too enthusiastic about books and well, life in general. He laughed under his breath, shaking his head, and got up to head to his gate.

His eyes darted from sign to sign, hunting for the Chicago-NYC flight. The red LED lights moved across their signs as he made his way through the crowd. A few clusters of people ahead, he saw the group waiting for his flight.

“Dean!” Castiel waved at him, his blue eyes lit up with excitement.

Over his head, the sign read “Chicago-NYC” in glowing red.

_Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me._


End file.
